A Thousand Years
by Lethal-Pepper
Summary: It is two years after the unfortunate events at the Aperture Laboratories, and nearly eight hundred days since his banishment into deep space. With plenty of time to think over his injustice, Wheatley wants to apologize. What does he say when the opportunity to right his wrongs comes knocking? What does Chell think?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Portal/Portal 2 does not belong to me, and neither do the characters. Instead, that all belongs to the game's respective owners. However, I would not mind hanging out with Wheatley for a bit. (:

**Summary:** It is two hundred years after the unfortunate events at the Aperture Laboratories. And nearly eight hundred years since his banishment into deep space. With plenty of time to think over his injustice, Wheatley wants to apologize. On the verge of completely giving up and abandoning the idea ( due to utter irritation ), what does he do when the opportunity to right his wrongs comes knocking? After so long, what does he finally decide to say? (Rated T because I'm paranoid)

I hope that you enjoy!

* * *

_"Spaaaacee!"_ Cried a high-pitched voice, which cracked as the word extended beyond its natural capacity. The sound grew louder the closer that it neared him and he struggled to reach the stray core.

"Oh for the love of- would you _hold still_, mate!" Wheatley pleaded, his own accented voice clearly coated in irritation. They had been at this for hours, and yet had they been able to make up any ground. With sparking circuits, the damaged sphere took another look behind him; only to gasp. "O-Oh dear. That's not good, not good at all!"

There it was again! "Woo-hoo! _Spaaaaacee!_"

Wheatley felt himself jerk forward, hoping to come within reach. Unfortunately, his hopes were denied and it seemed as if the last of the patience that fate seemed to have with him vanished. And he could not help but groan rather loud in exasperation. How hard was it to just sit -

_CLANG!_

The battered machine's optic snapped shut as a yelp of surprise escaped. Once again, he could feel himself rapidly spinning, and, if he were human - for sure - his latest meal would be launching itself from his throat. Finally stopping, after too long of a moment, Wheatley shook himself; "Oh, yeah, I'm getting real sick of all this bloody spinning, most definitely." He stopped. "Now would ya' look at that!"

Somehow, that collision with the space core - although, most involuntarily - had caused him to get even closer to one of the Earth's satellites! Wheatley nearly fell over with relief; he was not going to miss it after all. _'Now, if only I can get close enough to,'_ he trailed off, sensors beeping loudly with a sudden burst of cleverness.

Wheatley turned back around, for probably the twentieth time in that same hour. "Hey, buddy, do you mind doing that-that- whatever ya' did again? One more time, maybe? Please?" He gestured to the oblivious satellite's bulky, metal form. "It would be a great pleasure if you did, just one more time. Bang into me so I can get over there, to that big metal, spinning-thing. I need to bell a mate."

To his very surprise, the yellow-tinted optic of the second core swiveled around to meet his equally bright one. A confused glance was also shot his way; unsure of what was supposed to happen. And a single world, which was nearly driving Wheatley insane, slipped forth, "space?"

Wheatley rolled his eye in a wide arch. "Yes, yes, space, this has to deal with space. Now, if you want to stay in space, be my guest, but I need to get over _there_. But, if I don't, than something very, truly bad will happen; something truly awful." The 'more advanced' machine explained, suddenly coming up with another idea. "If I don't get over there then-then space will," he gasped, "explode!"

And just like he planned, the space obsessed core recoiled in utter fright. Yellow eye shrinking into a much smaller size, Wheatley watched as it started to shake. Then, a loud exclaim filled the empty, dark span of space; "_Nooooo!"_

"Then bloody hit me! So I can save space!" Wheatley, equally loud, shouted. He was just about fed up with this bloody machine! "Do it now! I don't have any bloody time to wa- _ow_!"

_BANG!_

"Yes, ow, right. Ow, that did hurt, a lot," Wheatley mumbled, just about to shoot a nasty look at the second sphere; which was now huffing out of pure anger. "Oh, wow, man. Mate, don't you look a bit angry. No, a lot, actually."

Suddenly appearing next to him, the space core growled; seemingly to transform into an entirely different entity. "Save space, _now_."

And that was just the right motivation Wheatley needed.

"O-Okay, wow. Yes, I will get right on it. Saving space," he mumbled, focusing, now, all of his attention on the motionless satellite. "Getting right on it. Lots of buttons, let's see here. How 'bout this one, right here?"

There was a sharp _bing_; the normally soft sound seeming to echo around them; and the long since untouched machine hummed to life. The machine's computer was the next thing to come online, a quick flash of white light announcing its arrival. Numbers appeared, followed closely by many letters - all jumbled together to form a complicated code.

_Systems online._

Wheatley whistled. "Fancy,"

_Model Alpha-Delta 9.0 is ready to continue. Voice authorization is required._

At this Wheatley nearly short-circuited. 'Voice authorization' - how was he supposed to do that? It was not like he knew this machine's engineers. In an action that was similar to clearing one's throat, he finally said, "The name's Wheatley, mate. Personality core, I am. Best one tha' you'll ever-"

Mimicking the robot's accent, the satellite announced, _name_ Wheatley _not authorized. Prepare for complete computer shut down, in one minute._

The two brightly lit cores started to panic, their resolve over the years rapidly turning into dust. Optics widening, they began to shout rushed nonsense; hoping that their newest companion would be of accepting. "Ahh!" The space core yelped.

"Alright! Alright! Don't panic! Don't panic, there's no need to panic!" Wheatley reasoned, his own voice climbing to new, higher octaves. "A-Aha! Found something! N-NA-NASA." He sounded out, the red, flashing light on the satellite's monitor being ignored as it continued to count down. "What kind of name is that, _NASA_? Who exactly does this bloody, stupid machine belong to an-?"

Underneath the initials was a bold phrase. **United States of America.**

"Bloody brilliant." Wheatley mumbled, suddenly growing annoyed. "Americans - those bloody idiots! Now we'll _never_ figure out what the password is! It could be anything! Anything at all! For all we know, it could be panther spelled backwards!"

_Password accepted. Canceling computer shut down._

The space core blinked; "Whoa,"

_Ready to continue. Enter coordinates._

"Oh, wow, bloody lucky we are! What do you think, mate?" Wheatley wondered aloud, only to keep his one-eyed gaze on the revolving satellite. "Okay, here we go. Aperture Laboratories. Do you know where that is? I do hope so, because I want to go there. I do, actually, really badly."

_Coordinates accepted. Aperture Laboratories. Is this location correct?_

"Yes! Yes, it is!" Wheatley cheered, completely forgetting about the intense look that was being sent his way by his other companion. Another soft bing was heard before the screen was altered, moving at a fast pace towards his voiced location. He took a breath, _'well, I guess it's now or never.'_

_Error. Coordinates too far to travel. Cannot continue with procedure._

And then it was all completely shattered. The well-deserving robot's hopes were destroyed.

Just like that. In a way that so unbelievably _easy_.

Wait. Really?

* * *

**A/N: Well, how was it? It was dreadful, absolutely so, wasn't it?**

**I know that this is no excuse, but, I have been having a terrible case of writer's block. And, only now, is my brain starting to come back online - creatively, at least. So, I'm sorry that it's so choppy and..stuff. I'm still a bit rusty. I certainly hope that it goes away soon, though. I do hate it, quite actually. /: Oh, and I, also, apologize for how short this one is. Deeply sorry.**

**Anyways, I hope that the first part of this two-shot is worthy enough of your oh-so-lovely reviews! If you catch anything that should be of fixing, please let me know! (Which is probably everything..)**

**Aaand..I'm done talking..now. Right **now**.**

**Actually, I lied! Whoops - sorry 'bout that! See that button right down there? **If** you click it, I will give you a cookie! Wait, no, how about a **donut**, huh? (: Go ahead! Click. It.**

**Until next time, ¡Adiós!**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** As said in the previous chapter, the characters that make up the Portal universe do not belong to me. They did not come from my brain. On the other hand, this story did. The idea, that is the only thing that I own. Everything else, to their respected owners.

**Summary:** ( You know what is going on! If not, or need a quick 're-fresh', if you will, then I suggest clicking on that back button. Skim over the last paragraph, hm? )

Unlike what was originally planned, this might not be the last chapter of this story. I might write more. But it all depends on how this goes.

* * *

_Previous destination is inaccessible. Enter new coordinates._

Wheatley could only stare in disbelief. Had his sensors really picked up on such horrible words? Certainly not. He just had to be dreaming. Yes! That was it! A simple dream, or rather, a nightmare. He would wake up.

Right?

Any moment now. Yes sir! At any moment now, the small robot would boot back up. And everything would go back to normal. Back to the way it was - before it had fallen, before She had been murdered.

Before he had even met that human. Chell.

His many circuits suddenly hissed; the extra power that was fueled by emotion causing angry sparks to start within him. He was angry, rightfully so, at that human. Who was a mute, for bloody sake! How could someone with that sort of disability defeat such an all-great supercomputer?

GLaDOS, she had said that he was the one to blame. He was the reason why everything had failed; the reason why She had failed. But, in fact, it was not him, no. No, instead, it was the parent-less human! It was all her fault!

It was all her fault that he was given a chance to roam. To finally explore the entire space that was called the Aperture Laboratories - which was bloody enormous, by the way!

It was all her fault that he could set his fear aside, in order to detach himself from the rail and continue on as well.

It was all her fault that he was able to experience what true emotions felt like.

It was all her fault that he was given a chance to be a human; just like her and not be a robot. Even if for only a moment. It was all her fault that he could feel.

All of it was her fault. That stupid, yet bloody adorable, Chell, who should have been nothing than a simple Test Subject for Science. Nothing more.

But that was when it had all changed. Those once-pathetic and annoying emotions had grown. Rather tremendously, in fact. And soon, much too soon, Wheatley had found himself promising the female that he would be back.

Then, he wondered, was change ever really a bad thing? After all, was that what the true definition of science?

Unfortunately, his change, was nothing short of horrible. He had been downright evil, probably even more so than GLaDOS had been.

* * *

The space core heaved a heavy sigh. A faint look of sympathy did cross his metallic features, but it had been for nothing more than a moment. He took the opportunity to quickly scan the American-made machine. Obviously it had seen better days, and the fact that the large piece of junk had lasted as long as it had was a miracle beyond itself.

_'Looks like those foreigners can build a decent machine after all.'_ He mused, only seconds before a sound made of barely contained anger was heard.

"I _cannot_ bloody believe this! Not at all!" The yellow-tinted sphere watched on, a bit amused, as his most recent gained companion rambled. "Well, actually, a little bit, maybe. I _can_ believe it. I mean, it was a pretty rare chance that my plan _would_ actually work. Only very tiny amount, so small you can barely see it." And then his look hardened back up. "But still! I cannot believe that it did not work! Do you realize _how long_ I have been waiting for this, huh, _do_ you? Too long! And all I wanted to do was a quick, very fast, 'hello' to a very dear mate of mine."

The space sphere rolled forward. He had to intervene very soon, or else that other, stupid machine might do something terrible. Hopefully his idea would work..

"-nd now, it's not possible!" Wheatley heaved, and his leather wrapped handles scrunched down in a frown.

Throwing aside what his main objective was - which is a rather stupid one, the space core roughly collided into the sphere that had been long-since deemed as Wheatley. After long periods of dormancy, his voice sounded awfully scratchy; making him inwardly cringe.

"Mo-ove," he managed to utter, albeit it sounded a bit more on the robotic side; crunching almost.

Speech that was of complete opposite of his own, Wheatley managed to form a decent sentence; despite as his worn circuits sizzled and popped due to excessive damage. "And _what_ do you think you're doing?"

Cringing at the, most likely unintentional, harshness of the other's voice, the space core tried its best to give an answer. "You-u wa-ant to speak to-o that s-smelly hu-uman, don't you?"

As assumed, Wheatley had drawn away in surprise. His optic not anymore half-hidden with annoyance, instead now a shrunken circle. Hesitantly, words were formed; "C-Chell? You're gonna help me speak to Chell?" The words increasing in sound until a short cheer erupted. "Oh, this is simply smashing! Bloody great, this is! Thanks, mate,"

"Do-on't thank me yet." The space core started, going back to work on hacking what was left of the larger computer's memory. "I-I can't pro-omise tha-at the call w-will go-o through. I will try-y to get you to the-e Laboratories."

"Good! That is very good!" Wheatley cried, moving to watch as the main frame of the satellite was hacked. "Oh, wow, look at you go! Incredibly fast, you are. In fact, you should be finished in -"

_DING!_

The space core turned around and released a prideful hum towards the blue-tinted sphere. Only, he received a surprised expression in return for his unusual handiwork.

"I-I never knew you could do that, mate!" Wheatley admitted with a shake of his spherical head. "That is bloody impressive! Why didn't you tell anyone about this?"

And just like that, the moment that was full of pride and happiness was shattered. The space core let out a sorrowful moan. "Be-ecause they wo-ould hav-ve sent me out here soon-ner. And-d I would have been all a-a-alone," he admitted.

To say that Wheatley was shocked was an understatement. Not a word could describe his reaction. He was in a state of bafflement. And for once, the talkative sphere was rendered speechless. Had the space core always felt like that - towards work that he loved? Designed specifically for?

Before either intelligent spheres could say another word on the subject, the computer announced, its voice monotone, _Command accepted. Connecting with Aperture Laboratories._

The two watched as the satellite's monitor had changed, again, this time to supply a view of what could be generalized as rubble. A clear sign that a fight had ensued. But that was not what had their complete attention. No, it was the large, black and white machine that hung in the center; spinning around to meet them.

Wheatley swallowed, and like last time, nervously greeted the female supercomputer; "Hello!"

GLaDOS let out a disappointed sigh. "Oh, it's only _you_, the moron. I was hoping that it was someone else, who was smarter."

Eye following a shining white turret that passed rather close to the monitor, Wheatley commented, "I can see that you're making a _lot_ of changes to the old lair. N-Not bad, of course, no, they're goo-"

Although She knew why the idiotic machine had called, GLaDOS took the chance to amuse herself. "Is there a reason why you called the Laboratories?" She asked.

And the space core could only let out a sigh - they had been doing that _a lot_ lately - and shake his head as he listened to the other personality core stumble. Not smooth, at all.

"W-Well, there-there is a good reason for that, a very good reason." Wheatley tripped, seeming to forget that he was hundreds and thousands of miles away from GLaDOS. Seeing that intelligent, way more than him, computer made him cringe. "I want- n-no, would _like_ to speak t-to Chell. Can I, for a moment? It'll be real quick, promise."

Her gaze fell to annoyed rather quickly. "No, you cannot,"

"Maybe if I say please, then?"

GLaDOS shook her head. "No, you cannot speak with that filthy human." The computer disagreed.

Wheatley blinked. "W-Why not?"

And all he got in return was a soft, barely audible whisper, "because she left."

Wheatley beamed, like most times, oblivious to the actual meaning of what someone said. A thin sheet of metal came to hide the bottom-half of his eye, expressing how happy he was. "R-Really? She managed to leave that messy place? Finally?"

GLaDOS itched to throw that disrespectful machine against the wall. "Yes, she did," she drawled.

"Well then! Isn't that wonderful!" He congratulated, turning towards the space core now. "Don't you think mate?"

"Yes-s," the yellow core agreed.

"Anyways, can you maybe forward me to her, Chell, wherever she happens to be?" Wheatley asked. "I need to have a word with her, just for a second. Quick second."

"Don't you understand?" GLaDOS snapped, her monotone voice having an angry ring to it. "Of course a moron, like you, would have a difficult time understanding."

And he snapped right back, "I am _not_ a _moron_! Now, would you just let me talk to her!"

GLaDOS sighed, knowing that if she did not, than that other space core - who was rather smart - would do it instead. "Fine." And with a simple, quick wave of a mechanical arm, the screen, for a third time, changed.

Wheatley and the space core both watched as it, now, showed them the inside of an apartment; which was rather plain. And at the moment, they seemed to be looking at what was a living room. A coffee table sat in front of a brown sofa, that had two pillows and a couple of blankets. On a nightstand that leaned up against a wall to their left, was a television that was no bigger than a sofa cushion; its black screen eyeing them.

Wheatley cringed slightly, surely this could not be right. Chell did not live here, in this rather tiny house; with walls that were covered in a dull, off-white paint. "Oh dear, this place looks rather boring, doesn't it? I mean, there are no pictures on the walls or any fancy carpets. Just..plain." He rambled aloud, not particularly looking for an answer. "Chell isn't the one who lives _here_, is she?"

The space core did his best to mimic a shrug. "GLaDOS does-s n-not lie-e,"

"True, true. You're right there, mate." Wheatley said, his voice quickly gaining a tone of worry for his companion. "But then where is she?"

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**A/N: Okay, so, I am sorry for the semi-awkward ending, there. I wrote the last couple sentences in bit of a rush; because I have a follow-up doctor's appointment, to see how well I am recovering. Just like before, I hope that you thoroughly enjoyed this chapter. Let me know what you think! I promise, I will **not** bite you! I am actually quite nice.**

**But every angel has a dark side. Ha ha..kidding. Not really. (:**

****_Anyways_, I want to give a big thanks to 8th Demention who took time out of their day to send me such a lovely review! And the idea was pure lovely, I'll be sure to give it a go! :) So expect something interesting soon! Oh! Here ya' go - a COOKIE!****

**Like always, you all know exactly what to do! Just move your curse, there, over to that such wonderful button and click it! It is that simple! Real easy, really.**

**Until next time, ¡Adiós!**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **As said in the other two chapters, the characters that make up the Portal universe do not belong to me. They did not originate from my brain. On the other hand, though, this story did. The idea, that is the only thing I own. Everything else belongs to their respectful owners.

**Summary: **( You know what is going on! If not, or need a quick 're-fresh', if you will, then I suggest clicking on that back button. Skim over the last paragraph, hm? )

For the ones who have declared their liking to this story and took a minute to review or follow, I want to let you know that this story will not follow its original plans. Albeit that it _might_ be shorter than other stories.

Anyways, let us proceed, yes?

* * *

Chell let out a soft sigh. Running a tanned hand through her brown hair, she continued to dwell upon that day's schedule. As soon as she stepped foot into the apartment, she would, first, take a quick nap. And then, just after dinner, it would be time to leave once _again_ for her other job at the pharmacy.

A frown appeared on her lips, as it seemed to do a lot lately. Trudging up the seemingly endless stairs, Chell finally came to the floor that they had assigned her to. Ignoring the looks that were given to her as people passed by, sending their regards, she pulled out a small key.

And then she froze on the spot, only to shake her head and lean forward closer to the door. Focusing all she could, Chell listened for any more sounds. A second passed, and then another. Just when she was about to shake it off as lack of sleep, that was when she heard it.

_"-positive? She lives here?"_ A voice asked.

A rather loud growl crawled itself from the deep hole that was her throat. Uttering the noise was not as hard, nor as painful, as it used to. And she was, honestly, getting better at it. But none of that mattered - she had things to protect, or what little she had.

Still, at least it was a reason to get rid of these pathetic emotions. A release.

So, with stealth that she had thought she had long forgotten, Chell inched open the door that led to the inside of her rented apartment. As she pushed it closed just as slowly, she wished that the God above would make something _finally _go right; for once. And then, she proceeded to stalk towards the living room; where the voices were omitting from.

Throwing her back against a protruding wall, Chell took a deep breath. Tightening the grip that she had on the baseball bat so that her knuckles turned a pale white, she told herself; _'You've got them cornered. They only way out is through you. Let's just hope that they don't have a gun.'_ Her eyes slipped shut, as she counted done silently. _'Here we go. 3..2..1..'_ and she leaped.

"Ah! _There_ she is!" The 'intruder' exclaimed. "Chell, hello luv'!"

Only for the bat to fall to the floor, landing with a loud, metal _clang_. Chell could only stare on in disbelief, with her mouth barely open. Was she really seeing this, or was her brain feeding nothing but a hallucination; a lie? _'Apparently not,'_ she concluded, rubbing her eyes.

"W-Wheatley?" She rasped, voice rough and scratchy with lack of use. (Hey - she _was_ working on it!) As she continued to stare, she, also, noticed that her friend was not completely alone; the space core was there. And she smiled in greeting.

"Oh, wow, d-did-did you hear that, mate!" Said robot, Wheatley, asked, spinning around momentarily. His surprised look was eagerly returned by the space-obsessed core. "The old girl _can _speak, after all! B-But, I knew that, all along. That it was possible. I certainly did, yes."

Chell simply crossed her arms and leaned to the side, not believing the personality core. _Yeah right._ She signed.

And Wheatley blinked, confused. "W-What was that?" He asked, shifting so that he could follow the satellite's ever-so-slow trek around the Earth. "What happened to saying words, mate?"

Sighing, Chell grabbed a nearby note pad and pen; quickly writing down something.

"Oi, look-look, she's writing something! Yes, good thinking there." Wheatley rambled and squinted, hoping to catch the dark, black ink that she had scribbled along the white paper. "Let's see now, o-oh, I understand now. Yes, _ha ha_," he laughed, "Funny."

Silence was the only thing that was exchanged between the two, which led Chell to momentarily believe that, perhaps, she had said something wrong. Had she hurt the blue-tinted sphere, somehow? She opened her mouth but someone cut her off.

"Listen, Chell, mate," Wheatley sighed. "I've got to tell you something. An' it's very important." He looked up at her; hoping.

Being the observer that she was, Cell nodded rapidly and sat down on the floor. Inwardly, she cringed as her muscles screamed for being forced to take a rest on such an uncomfortable surface - the floor. _'At least it's carpeted.' _The tired female reasoned as she waited for him to continue.

_'Alright then, here I go. Don't mess this up.' _Wheatley sighed, and looked up from his gaze with the moon. "I've been out here, with only the space core for company a-and- oh dear, that's not good. Listen, luv', I've had an awful long time to think this over, out here in space. B-Because I had been banished, and all," Wheatley let out a harsh groan that was full of anger - at _himself_. "What in the bloody world is _wrong_ with me?" He shouted.

Yet, Chell did not move an inch. She remained in her spot on the floor in front of the coffee table. The only thing she did was flip to the next page, but did not write another word - for, it was already full. Inwardly, she giggled at the sphere's expression of irritation.

"W-What I'm trying to say is- oh, _why _is this _so difficult _to say?" Wheatley shouted. "Why can't I _just_ tell you that I'm sorry for what I did, back at the Laboratory! _How much_ I _regret_ what I did back there. How I made you solve those tests and mocking you. How I lied to you, promising that your parents were down there in that pit, along with other stuff!" But, then, his voice softened into one of sadness. "How _sorry_ I am for trying to kill you."

A soft smile gripped at her unusually pale cheeks; one that was full of sympathy. "Wheatley," she whispered.

"-nd you weren't the one who was bossy; it was me. I blamed everything on you, when it was all my fault since the beginning. And GLaDOS was right, all along," Wheatley deflated. "I _am_ a moron. I-I mean, she said so herself - that I'm only an Intelligence Dampening Sphere. I should have been given even _harsher_ punishments, for what I did; but I'll settle for this one. Which, isn't too bad actually-"

"Wheatley," Chell snapped suddenly. It caused both spheres to turn their complete attention on only her. "B-Be quiet. Pay a-attention." And with that said, she held up the note pad in front of the computer screen. The smile failed to fall from her face; for she, in a long time, truly felt happy.

If Wheatley had been human, tears would have streamed down his face, for sure. Instead, his circuits sparkled and popped - once again - with emotion; something that a robot should not have been able to carry out. In his best attempt, Wheatley mimicked a smile with his twin handlebars. "Really, mate?"

Chell nodded. "Y-Yes,"

On the clearly worn paper, clouding its large white canvas was a simple, three letter phrase. _I forgive you._

* * *

**A/N: So, how was that? Well, I tried. And that is all that matters.**

**Today, I went to see my doctor this morning for a follow-up appointment, because I had surgery done about two weeks ago. And, it turns out, that I am recovering ahead of schedule, actually. That my recovery is going incredibly well! So, yay me! :)**

**Also, what do you think? Are you happy that I uploaded yet **another **chapter today? 'Cause I know I am! Honestly, I **love** it when I get feedback on my stories; it makes me think that I did something right. Ya' know? I mean, obviously, since you reviewed! Or were you just sparing my feelings? Either way, I truly appreciate the people who read this! Let me know what you think, if you want to, that is.**

**Cookies for everyone! Yaaaay~**

**Until next time, ¡Adiós!**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **As said in the other three chapters, the characters that make up the Portal universe do not belong to me. They did not originate from my brain. On the other hand, though, this story did. The idea, that is the only thing I own. Everything else belongs to their respective owners.

**Summary: **( You know what is going on! If not, or need a quick 're-fresh', if you will, then I suggest clicking on that back button. Skim over the last paragraph or so, hm? )

This time, I do not want to say too much, because in this chapter, it reaches a climax rather quickly. So I hope that you enjoy the ride!

* * *

While his companion, the blue personality core, and that human, Chell, had started to converse, the space core took the chance to finally have a look around. And the observation was pretty much the same at every turn; cluster of stars here and a planet there. Oh, and the moon! It was just as big and utterly breathtaking as he had dreamed it would be! In fact, it all was.

During their first few months in space, all he could do was state his excitement. He would spin and toss himself around, feeling his wires sizzle with happiness within him. It made him feel joyful and relieved, almost; glad that he had finally made it into space. As a matter of fact, he still did! He could feel himself giving off large amounts of excitement, even to this point in time. He -

"-ow I lied to you, promising that your parents were down there in that pit, along with other stuff!" A brief pause. But, then, the voice returned; softening into a tone of sadness and guilt. "How sorry I am for trying to kill you."

The space core blanked. Wait - what now?

He replayed the words over again, that Wheatley had said with so much guilt. His euphoric state rapidly died down, turning into one of anger. "How I lied to you-" And there was a buzz of noise as he fast forward. "- for trying to kill you." His optic narrowed, turning into a dot.

He had done _what_?

The space core spun around to face the back of the personality core. Luckily, he was no longer next to the screen, so neither of the close friends could see the hateful glares that he was sending to Wheatley. He seethed, wires slowly heating up. But, then a quick sliver of confusion wiggled its way into his train of thought - why was he suddenly so angry? Why _was_ he?

He shook his head, letting his handle bars bend in a frown. The reason did not matter now. What did matter was, instead, the fact that Wheatley had just admitted to breaking the promise that they had all agreed to - keeping Chell safe. And he had broken it. He had put her into danger. If he had not cared then, when he had been in charge of the entire facility, why was he apologizing? Why was Wheatley going out of his way to fix it?

_'Maybe he has finally realized his mistake.' _The space core reasoned. Even though him and the other cores had helped Chell and Wheatley carry out the plan to take out GLaDOS, they were nothing more than just acquaintances. With a soft sigh, the space core realized that the anger was no longer needed. And even though Wheatley had done something so incredibly wrong, he was trying to make up for it.

So he would let him. If not, then _he_ would be committing a wrong. Now, that did not mean he would forget what the blue personality core had done, never. He would forgive, that was for sure. Just like Chell had done.

With all of that said, the space core decided, it was time to get rid of some anger.

* * *

Wheatley remained still out of shock. Never would he have known that Chell, the woman that he down right betrayed, would forgive him as quickly as she had. And, he noticed, that a sliver of doubt had appeared. His blue optic immediately brightened when he had caught sight of the note pad. At least, he had gotten most of what he had wanted to say out before Chell had announced her answer.

However, just as he had taken a breath in to say something else, Wheatley took notice that the satellite's computer monitor had been stripped of Chell's sickly pale face and reduced to a steady stream of static. "W-What just happened?" He yelped, looking around for an answer. Had he bumped into the machine somehow? Or -

"I d-did it."

Wheatley looked up in shock at the space core. "W-Why? I was just about to ask -" Again, he was cut off.

The space core narrowed, some of the previous anger that he had evaporating into irritation. "Be-ecause you d-deserved it."

"What do you mean 'I deserved it'?" Wheatley asked, utterly confused. "What did I do?"

_'This guy really is stupid.'_ The space core thought, and then mumbled, "Y-You know why-y." He paused, now directly behind the oblivious personality core. Man was it incredibly difficult to maneuver around in space. "A-And you also deserve th-this."

Wheatley yelped as the space core had suddenly, and most unexpectedly, rammed into his already-damaged body. He was thoroughly confused as it was - with why Chell had forgiven him so quickly and all; so this was not helping in the least bit! He twisted around, facing in the opposite of his two handle bars. "Why'd you do that for, mate!" Wheatley shouted. For some reason, all he could hear was rumbling..

Deciding to humor the other core, the space-obsessed one replied back, "No-o r-reason. Good l-l-luck!"

"'Good luck'? I can't hear ya', mate! What'd you say?" Wheatley asked, inching forward so he could make out the repeated words. "I still can't hear a single word you're saying! A-And _what_ is that dreadful noise?" He noticed that the sound had gotten awfully louder.

Instead of seeing nothing but a large, pitch-black canvas that was filled with stars, only one thing floated in front of him now. And it was not the moon, it was the Earth. The bloody _Earth_.

"Oh no," Wheatley gasped, only for the words to fade off into a high-pitched scream.

The space core, though, remained quiet. He felt nothing now, just like everything around him; not even sadness. Instead, he continued to float along with the aged satellite and watched as Wheatley's silvery form quickly fade away to melt into the color of the Earth's clouds. He blinked after a long, silent moment and looked around.

He was all alone, now that he had pushed Wheatley towards Earth. So, why was he not sad, like he had thought he would be? Maybe it was because he was still caught up in the fact that he had done something right.

* * *

**A/N: Sooo..how was that? Did I kill your feelings?**

**Like I said at the beginning, I am not going to be saying too much. Main reason is because I have a party to go to and two, I am not feeling to well. ( Surprise, surprise - I am always getting sick ) I blame my mom.**

**Anyways, I hope that you all enjoyed this chapter. Only a few more to go - maybe, like, 2 more? I don't know quite yet. And thanks for sticking around as long as you did!**

**Again, please review, it will make me happy! (: Have a nice evening! Or morning, depends on where you live.**

**Until next time, ¡Adiós!**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: **As said in the other chapters, the characters that make up the Portal universe do not belong to me. They did not originate from my brain. On the other hand, though, this story did. The idea, that is the only thing I own. Everything else belongs to their respective owners.

**Summary:** ( You know what is going on! If not, or need a quick 're-fresh', if you will, then I suggest clicking on that back button. Skim over the last paragraph or so, hm? )

And off we go!

* * *

Wheatley was not as entirely stupid and idiotic as GLaDOS often claimed him to be. Actually, he had quite a bit of intelligence; or he liked to think of himself having some. He knew what was going on, and that the space core had knocked him out of orbit with the moon. But he did not know why.

Or maybe he did? To be honest, remembering things was not one of his strong points.

Still, none of that - or his short attention span - helped him to stop screaming. And he inwardly wondered why he was a personality core; why those scientists had engineered him to have emotions. As well to be able to feel pain. Now, that, was not something that he enjoyed.

And to describe the pain that he was feeling now, really, was close to impossible. For starters, he felt as if he was melting; on fire. The fact that there was stray rock debris accompanying him in his rapid decent, for they kept hitting his outer shell, was not helping. Wheatley noticed, rather unfortunately, that he was only just now hitting the outer edges of the Earth's bloody atmosphere.

He twisted back around, which was a bit hard, to see if the space core was following. To his surprise, the other personality core was, in fact, not behind him. Wheatley squinted and came to the realization that he could no longer see neither that old satellite _nor_ the space core. Just tiny, super small, specs they were. The only reason that he knew those two were up there was the bright, now incredibly small, circle of orange light. That was where he was _supposed_ to be. _Not_ hurtling at increasing speeds towards the Earth!

And when the poor sphere turned back around, he nearly started to cry. Now, the Earth had gotten even _closer_. He could feeling the strong pull that was of the Earth's gravity and, as he looked down - a mistake that scolded himself for, he could just make out smudges of green and brown laid out far, far below the gaps in the swirling clouds. A-And how fast was he going now? He could not tell, the black void that was space made it hard; but there was thing that he did know and that was the Earth was getting bigger awfully fast.

"I'm going to die! I'm going to - nope, no, it's okay! There's no need to panic! There's gotta be _something_ -" however, Wheatley was cut off rather abruptly as a chunk of rock banged into his right side. This, of course, sent him spinning, flipping end-over-end even faster towards the planet's surface. Closing his cracked optic, Wheatley exclaimed - faintly wondering if any smelly humans could hear him; "- nothing! I'm gonna die and there's nothing I can do about it! _Ahhh_!"

_Aperture Science Robot Emergency Safety Protocol VII_

_What To Do When A Robot Is Enduring Events Not Included In The Manual, Such As Uncontrollable Re-Entry To Earth's Atmosphere._

Wheatley blinked. "Wow, what luck! Just what I needed, yes sir. Now, let's see -"

_If the circumstance outlined above occurs, please activate your Recovery Signal._

"What in the world is _that?_ I _have_ one? How do I-" A soft _bleep_ echoed around him, and Wheatley hummed, seeing as his optic started to pulse in a relaxed manner; as if the rest of him was oblivious to the dangers. "Well, what else do we have -"

For a moment, however, his internal processor seemed to panic itself; skipping and sputtering out useless information. And Wheatley could not, for the help of him, recall an answer for why it was happening. His cracked optic shrunk to a small dot, once again. "I don't need any of that! Why-Why is it doing that? What's wrong with -" and then a sharp sizzle of sparks burst free from his right side. "Oh dear," Apparently, the rock had done something more than just skip across his backside.

_Next, please activate your Aperture Science Orbital Maneuvering System engines for de-orbit._

"Well, doesn't that sound like fun?" Wheatley mumbled, only to yelp in surprise for the umpteenth time in minutes. Luckily for him (not really), his spinning had died down; but was replaced by an uncontrollable shaking. Suddenly, he felt, rather than heard, something open behind him. Shutting his optic for sure this time, the sphere, then, noticed that instead of falling at ninety-degree angle, he was flying in a long arc. "At least the bloody spinning stopped!"

All of a sudden, though, the deep roar of what he assumed were the engine..things..died off. The feeling of being pushed vanished completely.

At that point of time, a more monotone-type of voice was activated. _Error. Internal Processor damaged and inner mechanisms overheating to danger levels. Engaging Emergency Shut Down_ _procedure. Permission to continue?_

"O-Oh no. No, _please_ no!" Wheatley wailed. "That isn't good! Bad! _Don't_ 'shut down'! De-engage! I said _de-engage_!" He could not shut down! If he did, then how was he supposed to get to Chell, much less call out for her? He would miss her!

_Answer unheard. Will take high-pitched screams as acceptance._

At this, Wheatley practically exploded in sheer frustration. "Did you not hear me? I said _no!_" Why did those bloody engineers at Aperture Laboratories had to be so advanced with everything?

Nothing happened. Neither voice answered the suffering personality core.

* * *

Chell simply stared at her computer screen, which was now, from top to bottom, coated in static. The steady, soft crackle and hiss of the static reached her ears; seemingly louder than it had let off. Her eyes were as wide as saucers. Hands becoming suddenly slack, the worn note pad fell to the carpeted floor; going unnoticed by its owner, as did the pen. Blinking, she could only wonder one thing -

-_what_ had just happened?

Well, _obviously _the signal that their chat had resided on had ended; that much she knew. But, more or less, _why_ and _how_ had it happened?

Despite being tired beyond belief, Chell leaped from her cross-legged position on the floor and to her feet. She cradled the grey-colored laptop close to her chest, not promptly caring if the recent coffee stain seeped into the computer's speakers. None of that mattered, Chell decided; she needed to make sure that nothing bad was happening to Wheatley. That he was alright.

No matter what keys she pressed and or how many times she ran her cursor over the screen to refresh, nothing changed. The sound of static was still there, and so was the blank screen. Except, now, Chell noticed that a box had popped up in the bottom, left-hand corner. She clicked it, only to find that an alert was her answer; _Cannot connect with the server._

Chell cursed inwardly, and let her lips bend down in a frown. Huffing, she lifted a hand to push a few, stray strands of inky black hair back behind her ear. _'Well how am I supposed to know if he's okay now?'_ She was at a loss -

-until the show on her television switched to the local news. A stout woman with loose, dirty blonde hair faced what Chell assumed was the cameraman. Her cheeks were flushed a light pink, only to stretch as she started to talk. "We have urgent news. Just recently, the police have ordered everyone in the downtown area to return indoors immediately. The real reason is unknown as of- w-wait-" the reporter put a hand to her ear, pausing. "It has just been confirmed that an unidentified object was seen in the Earth's lower atmosphere. A-And they have predicted its landing to end somewhere in a wheat field in Michigan. Now -"

But that was all Chell needed to hear. Unlike the army and the police, _she_ knew what that 'unidentified object' was. Or, at least, she had a pretty clear solution on what it was.

"Wheatley," she breathed and started towards the door, only to pause in mid-step. Slowly turning around to face the _back_ of the apartment, Chell thought to herself; _'The police are probably roaming the building now. I need to get _out_, not stay inside.' _And, with that, she raced to the other end of the living room, where a sliding screen sat. Chell, without skipping a beat, heaved open the door.

Closing the door as quietly as she had opened it, the female proceeded at a steady pace through the trimmed wheat field. Chell pushed away the temptation to take a peak over her shoulder to look at the flashing red and blue lights. She was right - several officers had surrounded the apartment complex. Luckily, her last job required a plain uniform - dark blue jeans with a black polo shirt, their logo on the right breast pocket.

Trying her best to not trip over exposed roots from growing, stray plants, as well as sprinklers, Chell, occasionally looked up above at the dark indigo sky. And she thanked the God that it was a clear night, otherwise it would have been near impossible to spot the falling sphere. Once satisfied that there was a decent-enough distance between her and the lit-up complex, she stopped running. Her chest heaved from exertion, causing her to feel even _more_ tired. Again, none of her physical weakness concerned her.

Adopting a determined façade, Chell remained there; staring up at the nighttime sky. She would do it this time; she would catch him.

* * *

**A/N: ****What do you think? And Chell, girl? I do **not** recommend catching, or even touching, Wheatley..for a while. 'Cause, you know, he is basically becoming a talking, flaming ball of metal. Would you like to catch something that hot? No.**

**Anyways, I hope that you enjoyed chapter five! I am pretty sure, this time 'round, that the next chapter will be the last one. And I might just have chapter six uploaded later today, depends. Kinda sad that it has to end so quickly. ):**

**Once again, I would like to thank everyone has either reviewed, followed, or added this story to their favorites. I appreciate it a lot! An' I hope that you stick around to read what I write next! As always, you have a clear idea on what do. If not, I will elaborate - see that button down there? Click it, please! With your mouse, n-not your face. That would hurt, and..not work. Please review, if you want. (: A cookie for every lad that does!**

**Until next time, ¡Adiós!**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: **As said in the other chapters, the characters that make up the Portal universe do not belong to me. They did not originate from my brain. On the other hand, though, this story did. The idea, that is the only thing I own. Everything else belongs to their respective owners.

**Summary:** ( You know what is going on! If not, or need a quick 're-fresh', if you will, then I suggest clicking on that back button. Skim over the last paragraph or so, hm? )

I do not want to keep you lovely lot waiting; so, without further a do, _please_ enjoy!

* * *

"I take it back!" Wheatley declared loudly. "This isn't fun! I'm not having _any_ fun!" Only moments ago he had started to hit the other layers of the atmosphere, so the inky blankness of space was quickly dissolving from his view. And right then, the laws of physics activated; no longer sparing him any lick of mercy - like it had while he was in linear orbit. From the searing heat - most of his metal casing was glowing a dull, smoky red - to the intense vibration and wind-speed, that was threatening to tear his optic, as he entered each new section of atmosphere. He was not enjoying his long-awaited reunion with the blue-green-white marble that was Earth.

He was now plummeting through the last of the exosphere, his path through the watery air producing a massive pressure which smashed the thin oxygen aside in a violent shock-wave; igniting the stream of gasses and remaining space-dust behind him into a shining tail. If he had been given even the slightest of breathers, maybe Wheatley would have acknowledged that coming out from such a painful ordeal, was something breathtaking.

_'Oh god, t-this is absolutely painful!'_ Wheatley announced for about the billionth time since being knocked off course. How did those bloody astronauts deal with this amount of agony? Or, maybe, they did not feel it at all; because of that large, black and white, flying thing? A plane? _'W-Whatever that bloody thing i-is called, I do wish I had one!'_

By now, he had breached the mesosphere, the gas and debris he had pulled with him burning even brighter (thank _God_) in the oxygen-starved air. The increased acceleration had forced his optical plates completely closed; he was not even going to _try_ to look. He was positive that if he did, then in an instant, he would finished; done for. All of his wires and his outer casing would be torn off him. _That_ would hurt.

On the bright side, at least he was not going to see which part of the Earth's surface he was going to crash into. He hoped that it was a good thing, at least.

Accessing what he thought was his vocal processor, Wheatley tried his best to scream. But, it only came out as a gurgle._ "Ghhngg!" _It was not much, but, to him, it was an excellent try considering the circumstances. Right?

The heat and vibration were becoming unbearable. When was that so-called 'Emergency Shut Down' supposed to kick in? Wheatley could not speak any more - much less _think. _Having been caught in the grip of G-forces that would have immediately turned any human into jellied pudding. With his outer casing rapidly approaching a temperature of about two thousand degrees Kelvin. So, he abandoned the thought; it did not matter much to him now, anyways.

If he stayed conscious for just a beat or two longer, then he would uttered a relieved sigh. For the same boring and monotone voice that had announced his system failure came back online; sputtering, _D-Due to extreme heat levels, a-a-actions for Emergency Shut Down were delayed. We at Aperture Laboratories apologize for th-the i-inconvenience. P-Please prepare for Emergency Shut Down in 3..2..1.._

But the prerecorded message was given no response, for Wheatley had already blacked out. Now, with a low moan, the rest of his inner mechanism had followed suit; the only things not temporary dyed a bright red.

* * *

By now, which, surely, was hours later, Chell was sitting on the ground. Her eyes remained glued to the seemingly endless surface that was the sky, flickering from star to star. How long had it been now? Minutes? Hours? She could not tell, but it did not matter. That, and the fact she had left her watch back at her apartment.

She swallowed nervously. What if someone had already spotted Wheatley? No, that was not possible.

Was it?

Shifting so that her legs were laid out in front of her, Chell, for the first time since entering her apartment earlier on that evening, yawned. She needed to get some sleep, even if it was only for a few minutes. Little was certainly better than nothing, right? On that note, her eyes began to slowly slide shut -

_'No!'_ Chell scolded, and slapped herself lightly on the cheek. She _had_ to stay awake. To look for Wheatley. And so, she decided, that to fend off the intimidating powers of sleep, entertainment would be required. Looking around, she noticed that there was _nothing but wheat_.

Twisting the dull, golden-brown plant around her thin fingers, Chell started to hum as best she could. She did not know _what_ exact song she was humming, but for some reason it sounded familiar. As she dragged the edible plant across, it faintly tickled the palms of her hands; almost like a feather would. And she smiled.

Chell looked back up at the sky, noticing that faint wisps of clouds were starting to drift in from her left. A small sense of worry poked at the corner of her mind. When Wheatley came, would she still be able to see him, even with all of those offending clouds in the way?

_'Hopefully,' _she thought and plopped on her back, using the cut wheat as a pillow. All she could do now was wait, and listen to the owl that hooted along with the crickets that were near by, who were playing to her their wonderful melodies. And hope that she would not miss him.

* * *

Chell woke with start the next morning, or at least, it was _close_ to morning. The stars were nothing but faint, glowing masses against the slowly brightening sky now. She ran a hand through her messy hair, pushing back bangs so she could see. With a yawn that nearly popped her jaw from its place, the former test subject proceeded with her morning stretches. Only to freeze a second later.

Wait a minute - it was _morning _now, but it had been _nighttime _when she had heard the news report.

She paled. _'Oh no,'_ and her eyes widened slightly. Had she _really_ fallen asleep? If she did - which she was positive of now - then there was the possibility that she had _missed Wheatley_.

A sudden cold breeze caressed her face, making her cheeks flush a faint shade of pink. Along the lengths of her arms appeared several, tiny goosebumps; signifying that she was at least a little chilly - as if the chill that raced up her spine was not enough. And then the annoyingly frigid, new-morning gust of wind came back, this time a bit harsher. It was as if it was telling her something - to follow. As odd as it seemed.

And so she did.

Chell cautiously stood up, finally taking notice of her surroundings. Unlike the night before, where animals were continuously calling out to each other, screaming for the receiver to respond, the wheat field was silent. Nothing made a sound, except for the breeze as it ruffled the pointy stalks of wheat and her as she inched about. And Chell realized with a soft chuckle that it probably was not of the best ideas to go in just some random directly. But, something, her gut, was telling her to _keep going._

Of all the years that she resided within the many levels of Aperture Laboratories, the first lesson that she had learned was to always, _always_ trust your gut. No matter what. Because, nine times out of ten, Chell had long-since noted, it led her to the correct answer. The only thing that she was not so confident about was what laid on the other end; at the finish line.

Would Wheatley be there, or not?

* * *

For the first time in probably a _while, _Chell was starting to doubt her actions. Her checks puffed as she held a breath in, and then slowly let out to keep from screaming out in frustration. She was getting _nowhere._ And she was pretty sure that she had passed that same, large pile of moss-covered wood for a _third time._ Her eyes fell to stare at her feet as they shuffled across the ground. Maybe she made a mistake with trusting her gut this time. It _could_ be possible, right?

Chell frowned, becoming disappointed with herself. She had been too quick to act, and that was what made her angry. Had she not learned by now that to accomplish things, you needed _solid proof_ and not just 'gut feelings'?_ 'Obviously,'_ Chell growled,_ 'I made a mistake.'_ And then she thrust her arms into the air; having an argument with herself. _'I mean, the chances of me _ever_ finding Wheatley are a million to one! He could have fallen anyw-'_

She paused, waiting a moment. What was that? The obnoxiously loud wailing of a nearby Cicada was her only answer. And, when the suspicious sound did not reappear, she continued to trek on.

Her head whipped around to her right, with her eyes narrowing almost accusingly at the pile of wheat stalks. Then the muscles in her face relaxed in one of confusion - _none_ of this looked right. For _some_ reason, she could tell. And, as she bent down to get a closer look, Chell took notice that the plants had been _run over_; as if by a car. _'Then where are the tire tracks?' _She observed.

Very unlike a normal, sane (as if she ever really was) person, Chell followed the trail of compacted plants. And, she noticed, too, that there was a faint burning smell mixed in with the air. She inhaled deeply; yep, _definitely_ smoke. Her eyes widened; where there was _smoke_, there would be a _fire_. Since it did _not_ rain last night, Chell clarified, lightening was quickly out of the question. So, the only thing left would be-

"W-Who's th-there?" Asked a weak voice, and filled Chell with surprise that she had actually heard the near inaudible sound.

As she rushed forward, nearly tripping over her own two feet, the female suddenly became overly nervous; _way _more than ever before. She could feel her palms become slick with sweat, due to her overworked nerves; and she could feel her heart as it beat hard, faster, against her frail rib cage. Her chest heaved as she finally came to a stop in front of a well-sized ditch, having followed a dirt trail. The smell of smoke was more prominent now than before.

Again, the voice asked, "W-Whoever's up there. D-Do you mind helpin' me o-out of 'ere?" There was a quick pause, "please?"

That was when Chell's heart nearly split into two. How could someone _ever_ sound _so weak?_ So, with a splitting heart at the soft plead, she hesitantly walked forward; thoughts spilling forth and threatening to drive her crazy within moments. That voice, it sounded so familiar; so like _him._ But, with trembling hands, Chell wondered, could it be him?

That was when she decided to try. "W-W-" she coughed, and her eyebrows furrowed together in concentration. Still, even after a year or so of going to speech therapy - courtesy of that old woman next door, she _still_ had trouble talking. "W-Wheatley?"

A long beat of silence was the answer. "O-Oh bloody hell! Chell? I-Is that you, mate?" This time, the voice was coated thickly in that oh-so-wonderful British accent and they sounded happier. Or, almost as if they were relieved.

And she knew, right then, that it _was_ him. Carefully sliding down the decent-sized crater, it was then that she noticed how big the hole really was. Was _all this _mess made by _just him?_ "Hi," she chirped; just as glad to see her dearest friend.

Immediately, that familiar blue optic locked on her. "Oh _thank God_ that you're here! I-I thought that I was gonna be stuck down 'ere forever; you know, with having no legs or anything." He suddenly twitched, little sparks bursting free from his side. "But it's certainly been a _long_ time since I've seen ya' mate, besides when I belled you. How've you _ah_ been?"

As the personality core was talking, Chell noticed how he would scrunch his optic up in pain; the metal eyelid making the shrunken, blue circle into a mere nothing. And when he would twitch every other beat, sparks flying from either corner of his metal body. Chell knew that GLaDOS had messed the little robot up bad, but she never actually noticed _how bad._ Now she regretted it. Maybe she could have done _something?_

"-ou okay, Chell? You alright there, mate?"

Snapping out of her stare, Chell smiled and nodded. She scooted closer and reached her arms out, planning to pick up the abused machine. If it was any possible, Wheatley looked as if he gave the sun a high-five; he was _that_ badly burned. His metal casing, now, was not as hot any longer, having been a result of breaking free of the Earth's atmosphere hours earlier, and was nothing but the color black.

Wheatley, still thinking that he was over one hundred degrees, cried out a warning, "N-No, no! Don't touch me! You'll get- _ow!_" He jumped.

But she did not care anymore, and so, she brought him close to her chest; embracing him in a tight hug. Sure, he was still a little warm, but it was nothing that she could not handle. Dirt and grime could be seen, along with specks of wheat, peeking out from the spaces in his metal form. Wanting to get a head start, Chell lifted a hand and picked out the offending pieces of dirt. "I'm f-fine."

"Oh, so you are then. Sorry, just assumed that I was still bloody hot an' all." Wheatley mumbled as he looked her small frame over. He was right after all - she looked terrible sick. "Say, Chell, luv', you feelin' alright? You don't look good at all. Bloody terrible, -" he rambled.

Chell squeezed him tighter. "I'm fine." She firmly answered. "B-But Wheatley o-okay?" Inwardly, she screamed; the limited speech was starting to get annoying.

Wheatley's bright blue optic instantly snapped to the ground, to which he suddenly found to be incredibly interesting. His handle bars twitched of their own accord, and it caused a few drops of sticky, black oil to leak from the middle. "I'm just a bit sore, to be honest mate. The meeting with the ground isn't as pleasant as you think it is. And the re-entry, bloody hell, that was pure agony, it was! Of course, I'm feeling better now," he was looking back up at her now, with his voice not above a whisper. "Being with you an' all,"

A soft blush came to her cheeks. Instead, she circled her arms further around and pressed her forehead against the top of his head. For a moment, she wanted to yell at Wheatley, he was making her want to talk much more than she could. She only hoped that he got the hint.

And he did. The bottom half of his metal eyelid inched up, making him seem to have a joyful expression. "I know, luv'. I missed you too," but the comfortable silence was soon shattered to pieces as Wheatley continued to talk. "Hey, mate, I have an idea. How-How about we go back to your place and get something to eat? Do you have any cake, in that tiny flat o' yours? I don't know 'bout you, but I could sure use some cake right now; what do ya' think, luv'?"

The only think that Chell could do was laugh. _'Typical Wheatley,'_ she mused, once standing. And as they started their slow walk back to the apartment complex, she became lost in her thoughts - the rambling of Wheatley being drowned out. Even though he had betrayed her all that time ago and tried to kill her, she could not find it in herself to simply _not _forgive him. She could not do it - simple as that. What point was there after all? What would staying mad accomplish, really?

For a second, Chell pondered, was there, perhaps, a different reason entirely?

She glanced down at the oblivious core, and smiled. Yeah, that was it - there _had_ to be something else. Maybe it was the similarity the two shared; how Wheatley understood what it was like to be alone, mocked about, underestimated. Misunderstood. Maybe that was the reason their friendship had sparked so quickly - because they knew what it was like to be in each other's shoes.

"-what do you think, Chell?" Wheatley asked, and once again, knocking her out of her revere.

"Sure," she whispered, holding the core that she deemed special even closer. There just had to be reason _why_ she forgave him as quickly as she had; because, even _she_ did not even know. "Now, cake," she promised him. She would figure the solution to that soon. She had a bunch of years left to do, anyways.

Right now, the two of them had a date with some cake.

**_Fin._**

* * *

**A/N: Well. Interesting. Was the ending okay?**

**As you all know, this was the very last chapter of A Thousand Years. And I want to thank all you such lovely lads and lassies that decided to stick around until now! It means a great deal to me. (: So, thanks~ here's a slice of cake for you!**

**How many of you like Rise of the Guardians? Maybe How To Train Your Dragon? Or, do you have something else that you would like to see written out? Let me know!**

**Once again, I thank you a billion times for taking time out of your time to review, send me a PM, follow, or favorite this story! You all are such incredible people. Oh, and keep your eye out for anything new from me!**

**Until next time, ¡Adiós!**


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